Ghanaian pop star Amaarae: 'I'm presenting black women as deities'
“You can’t box anyone in any more,” Amaarae says from her bedroom in Accra, Ghana. “As older cultures die out, things inevitably change.”
The 26-year-old is describing the shift underway in West Africa embodied by alté, the eccentric musical style that has expanded into a non-conformist cultural movement. Amaarae is one of its pioneers, and her debut album The Angel You Don’t Know an instant classic in its canon. Euphoric in its risk-taking, it leaves no genre, sound or cadence off limits: Amaarae’s whispering vocals hopscotch between the Southern hip-hop rhythms on Celine and dance over the lilting soundscape created by Rvdical the Kid in 3AM.
It’s far more expansive than the western perception of African pop encompassed by the catch-all term Afrobeats, which Amaarae wanted to distance herself from as soon as she could. She referred to her debut EP, 2017’s Passionfruit Summers, as Afro-fusion, but like many artists of her generation, she finds categorising music into genres outdated. “If it was left up to me, I wouldn’t even place a label on my music,” she says. “My story is being told in many different, colourful ways.”
Being raised between Atlanta and Accra exposed Amaarae to a wide array of musical and visual styles. She pegs the start of her “colourful” story to her teenage years in the US, sitting wideeyed in front of her auntie’s TV: “The first thing we did when we got there was turn it on and watch music videos.” She vividly remembers watching Kelis in the video for Young Fresh N’ New, “from the mohawk to her driving that crazy monster truck. I just loved it. She made me realise that there’s so many different ways of expression and all avenues are valid. You don’t have to be just one type of person.” She shapeshifts across her own videos, from a black leather conch-studded bodysuit to long beaded braids and a colourblocked buzzcut.
She is frustrated at the rest of the world for failing to catch up with Africa’s dynamism – this limited perspective jeopardises the careers of West African artists who fail to meet preconceived stereotypes. “They haven’t found ways to compartmentalise African music genres,” she says of the mainstream music industry. “They’re really not giving way for artists to progress globally.” Change is happening slowly, with British labels investing in the African music industry, but it’s cultural disruptors such as Amaarae and her collaborators Santi and Odunsi (The Engine) who are leading the way.
She is challenging values at home, too. The Angel You Don’t Know is dedicated to those who don’t meet society’s narrow definition of normality, and Amaarae’s lyricism also challenges West African views on gender, opening the track Fancy by dominantly exclaiming: “I like it when you call me zaddy / Won’t you sit up in my big fat caddy?” Talking about the project, Amaarae says: “It’s about emancipation, womanhood and sexuality. It’s about boldness. It presents the black woman as a deity, a god!” Tracks such as Trust Fund Baby and Dazed and Abused in Beverly Hills are explicitly hedonistic, moneyhungry and sexually charged. “I’m just reflecting the thoughts of quintessential African women!” she says with a giggle.
Her album reflects the growth she has made on her musical journey. “One of the greatest mental barriers I overcame was letting people into my process and creative space,” she says. “I used to think if you were a true artist all your music, words and expressions had to come from you.” Working on this project made her appreciate the art of collaboration. “This record is so much more than just my expression but it’s also the belief others instilled in me creatively.” The Angel You Don’t Know “is about confidence,” she says. “It’s about swag, it’s about fearlessness.”
• The Angel You Don’t Know is out now on Platoon